tushanshu_logs | just because everything's changing [open]

Entry tags:

just because everything's changing [open]

Characters: Rikki Barnes and you!
Location: On the rooftops of the city, out and about.
Situation: Rikki explores her new home... albeit a little unconventionally.
Warnings/Rating: None atm.

The first thing Rikki did after arriving in the city and being shown to her suite was sleep. She hadn't since the night before they left for Colombia, except for a brief and uncomfortable nap in the car, and... well, it was just easier to be unconscious than worry about the fact that she's lost her friends and her family and her world all over again.

Unfortunately, the nightmares that plagued her before haven't left just because they came true - if anything, they've gotten worse, and she wakes in the middle of the night with a scream that echoes in her huge, empty suite. She doesn't even try settling back down after that; she's not going back to that place, to a jungle full of her friends' twisted bodies and Onslaught's voice in her head, so she pulls on her boots and gloves, tugs her goggles down over her face, and sets out to explore.

She takes off across the rooftops with no particular direction in mind, just looking to get a feel for her surroundings, to get some fresh air... whatever. Even in a city that's so far from anything like home, even with the strangeness of the locals and the odd glow that makes her wonder if it's even night at all, the familiar movements of traversing a city without touching the ground are comforting in a way - running until her breath burns in her chest, leaping across the streets and trusting her boots to propel her impossible distances, catching handholds as she follows the landscape of the city's architecture up and down and back again...

Finally she needs to stop to breathe, perched at the edge of a rooftop and looking out over the street, crouched down with her arms folded over her knees and her chin braced on her arms in an attempt to make her silhouette a little less conspicuous should anyone look up. It's only then that it starts to sink in, slowly, that she has no idea where she is or how to get back to where she's staying.

"Great job, Rikki," she mutters under her breath. "Excellent reconnaissance. Cap'd be proud."

God, she's an idiot.

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Not having his suit has been an interesting experience. He hadn't realized how much he'd come to rely on the Insider uniform, with its sundry abilities mimicking that of the entire Justice League. He hadn't used it long enough to get soft, but he'd definitely need some time to adjust to working with his own abilities once more. He estimates three days until he's back to his optimum condition.

It's interesting. A challenge. In a way, he feels twenty-one all over again, doing everything for the first time. Learning which lines were good for grappling and which ones had a tendency to yank your arm out of the socket.

Well. Maybe not quite that bad. But he stands on the roof of his apartment complex, fingers curled around the guard rail, and feels the potential of this new place like something brand new.

He won't stop trying to get home. 'Giving up' isn't in his nature. It took him a year to come back from the timestream, but he'd done it just the same. In the meantime, he'll work with what he has while he's here. And right now what he has is a perfect view of the Metal Sector from the top floor of one of the tallest buildings.

Rikki catches his attention for two reasons. One: she's also on a rooftop, and two: she's costumed. In Gotham, he'd already know every detail about her, from her name right on down to family history, as soon as she set foot on his turf. But he has no Oracle here, and he can hardly rely on his own knowledge and memory when people have potentially come from entirely divergent universes.

He watches her as she moves across the rooftops. Wherever she learned parkour, she picked it up well. He's impressed despite himself.

He's in his persona as Bruce Wayne: playboy, dressed in black silk clothing common to this place, and when she gets close enough he'll lift a hand in greeting. Her body language isn't hostile and lacks the hard, cold edge of a practised or profligate killer, but if he's made a miscalculation he's no less ready to fight than he generally is.

The raised hand catches her attention. She'd noticed him as she approached for the simple fact that he's on a rooftop too, but he's not there for the same reason she is, and hardly looks like he's going to come join her in her run, so Rikki decided that though he could probably see her, it wasn't really a concern. But when he waves, it seems almost rude not to come over and say hello. It's not like she has much else to do anyway...

It takes a little creative maneuvering, running up and bouncing off walls, to regain the little bit of height she lost since she left her own building, crossing over to the last building in a jump that'd kill her if she missed - but she won't. She used to run along the tops of bridges back home just for the fun of it, and this? This is nothing.

She lands in a crouch, and flashes the man as a grin as she straightens, pushing her goggles up onto her forehead. "Hi! This is another building for... uh... non-kedan, right? I'm new here."

"You're not the only one," Bruce says genially, his smile just the tiniest bit sheepish. He's perfectly capable of being charming when the situation calls for it. "I just arrived this morning. Rather gracelessly, I might add. I'd never taken 'waterlogged' to be such a literal term before."

The lack of a drycleaner in this place is going to be the death of his warddrobe, and the sheer tragedy of it all shows quite plainly in his expression.

"Forgive my saying so, but your accent - East Coast America?"

"Yeah, somehow I doubt anyone gets through that looking cool. Or if they do, I am very jealous."

Rikki chuckles softly, not unsympathetic - she's not particularly bothered by her uniform, which was fine once it dried out, but it was not a fun way to arrive. Still better than finding herself in a new world with no explanation only to discover her best friend was dead, but... not much better.

Yeah, she's glad for his question to take her mind off that subject, and she nods as she answers, "Philadelphia originally. New York for the past few years."

"You're not the only one." Honestly. So ruffled. Bruce lifts the glass tumbler in his spare hand, tilts it until the ice clinks against the side. It's an offer, if she wants it.

"Would you believe they actually have club soda here?"

Well, it's not quite club soda, but it's at the very least a close cousin. Regardless of her answer, he heads to the small table he's dragged up on the roof and pours an extra glass.

"I own property up in that area. New York's always been a sort of... home away from home for me."

"Really? Here?"

She follows him to the table, smiling a little at the fact that he's apparently already making himself at home with the table up here on the roof and all, and when he offers the glass, she'll take it with a nod of thanks.

"So where is actual home for you?"

He refills his own as well, and takes a seat next to the table.

"Gotham. I've been all over, of course, but I grew up there. Home is where you hang your hat, so to speak."

Or cowl. Not that he's going to mention that one in present company. He gestures out across the city with his glass, expression taking on a curious cant.

"You've a unique way of moving around the city. Parkour?"

Rikki frowns to herself at his answer - it's not a city she recognizes, from her universe or her adopted one, but it figures even in worlds that are mostly similar a few things would be off. She's not going to worry about it too much.

His question gets another quick grin and a nod. "Yeah!" Her gaze drifts out over the city again, mapping potential routes and the general geography. "It's an easier way of getting around than sticking to the streets - less crowded. Less chance of getting lost, too..."

Not that she hasn't gotten sort of turned around anyway, but with a few easily spotted landmarks, she should be able figure her way back without too much trouble.

He catches that frown. Is it that she's never heard of it, or knows it all too well? The concept of alternate universes is hardly lost on him, or the idea that what exists in one world might not in another. Take the very fundamental concept of Batman, for instance. Or Superman. He and Kent have both met enough alternates and doubles to last most normal people a lifetime.

One corner of his mouth lifts at that thought. 'Normal'.

"Do you give lessons?"

Rikki lifts an eyebrow at that, and actually pauses to consider the question before she answers it.

"Well... the most I've done before was give some tips to a friend who..." Lost her powers. But even in this place, even running around rooftops in costume, she feels weird talking about that to someone who might not be familiar with the whole superheroes thing. "Was out of practice. But I think I could probably teach someone, as long as they could keep up. Why, you thinking of trying it?"

"I'm always up for something new. Extreme polo just doesn't do it for me any more."

It's one of the best ways to write off his injuries. No one questions too much about, say, puncture wounds, when you explain that you were thrown off a horse onto a wrought-iron fence. Bruce Wayne's eccentric love for extreme sports is the only way he's been able to keep his medical history a relative secret.

"Extreme... polo?"

Rikki is not sure how you make polo extreme. In fact, she's not sure she's entirely clear on what polo is, but whatever, if he's okay with that, chances are he won't balk at flinging himself off a roof after her. Hopefully.

"But just so we're clear, if you fall and break your leg, it's all on you."

"I honestly can't explain it. You'd have to be there." He could crack a joke about, say, horses that breathe fire-- but he'll refrain. He has some restraint.

He smiles a little, swirls the dregs of his tumbler and drains the last of it. "Should I sign a waiver?" Hey, if it puts her mind at ease. He's really more interested in learning about the nature of her vigilantism.

Rikki laughs a little, shaking her head. "No, I don't think we have to go that far. But I like that you offered."

She pauses momentarily, and then offers her free hand to shake. "I'm Nomad."

"What can I say, I prefer a courteous approach. Even when it's relative to death and/or possible broken limbs." He shifts his glass to his other hand, takes hers and shakes it. His grip is firm, but kept well in check. He isn't here to break anyone's fingers.

"Nomad. That's rather a bleak name for a lovely young lady." And it's most definitely a code-name. As most monikers are self-bestowed, he can't see it meaning anything well for her. The word comes from the Greek νομάδες, or 'nomades', 'those who let pasture herds', but its more recent use tends to imply a sort of societal displacement. A wanderer.

Hm.

"I'm Bruce, by the way. Bruce Wayne."

Rikki shrugs a little at his comment on her name, not about to explain or give him her real name just yet. "It fits. Especially now, I guess. Whole new world..."

Again.

She could really do without this becoming a pattern, but apparently she doesn't get any choice in the matter.

"It's nice to meet you, Bruce. Even... under the circumstances."

"Do you mean to say that it's happened more than once?" His focus shifts away from her, out over the city. It's mostly done as an indication that the answer is somewhat inconsequential. In reality, it's anything but. He's already decided she's a vigilante. Her attitude and demeanour suggest someone who at the very least doesn't kill people indiscriminately, though that one's always tricky and he fully acknowledges the fact that his conclusion may be... incomplete.

"Mm? Oh, yes. Likewise. I think I'd prefer a chance encounter in New York, but a rooftop on the back of a mystical turtle is a close second."

Rikki follows his gaze out to the city, silent for a moment. It's not like her arriving from a parallel universe was ever anything she kept secret - not as Nomad, anyway - and she'd come to terms with it, but now, with the circumstances so closely parallel... It hurts all over again.

"Yeah, once," she says, trying to sound as calm as she should be. "It's a long story."

Ah.

Bruce turns a little, enough to look her face-on, and his expression is... appropriately arranged to seem sympathetic. And he can sympathize. He's only recently returned from a year being lost in the timestream, which engendered a similar sense of displacement. But he's older, and he's been doing this for decades. A teenager, dealing with similar circumstances? They're worlds apart.

"Well, if it's something you'd like to talk about-- my roof is always open." He lifts his glass in a gesture of 'cheers'.

"Thanks," Rikki says, and even if there's next to no chance she'll take the offer... she appreciates that it's there. It's nice of him, anyway, when he just met her.

She stares into her glass for a long moment, then quickly drains what's left and sets it down on the table before pulling her goggles back down over her face and flashing a grin. "I should go. There's a lot of city to explore, and I wanna be back home before the sun comes up. Give me a call when you're ready for those parkour lessons, okay?"

She doesn't wait for an answer before running to the edge of the roof and jumping off. She'll admit, she is a shameless fan of the dramatic exit.

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just because everything's changing [open]

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